Mercurial Wedding Planning
by fairmellarky
Summary: This is a work in progress. New to FanFic, looking for feedback to see if I should continue. This follows Ana as she deals with her mercurial groom. Rated M for later chapters.


I'm still in awe as Christian leads me across the lawn, away from the boathouse and towards the back of his family's house. He chatters non-stop, in a very un-Fifty-like gesture, but I can't find my voice to respond. I can't wrap my head around what just happened, but the weight on my ring finger and the heat in my chest assure me that I'm not imagining things.

"Ana, baby. Are you alright?" asks Christian – my Christian, my wonderful, temperamental fiancé. Fiancé. The word sits on my tongue like a sugar cube, dissolving slowly and sweetly. I feel my face break into a broad grin and Christian looks relieved.

"I'm fine. It just had to hit me. I think it finally has," I say with a bold, shining smile. I can't help it now, I can't stop.

"Well, you had better take some time to get yourself together. My sister means well, but you know she's going to be absolutely unbearable once she sees that ring on your finger," Christian says and I can hear the affection for his little sister in his voice.

"Well, take a deep breath. Here we go," I say, steeling myself as I open the French doors leading to the living room from the patio.

Neither Christian nor I make it more than one step into the room before we are both tackled by a squealing Mia. She slings one arm around my neck, one arm around Christian's and pulls us into an awkward group hug.

"Oh my God, Ana, you don't understand how hard it was for me to keep it a secret! I've been helping Christian all day, but he wouldn't tell me what it was for! What happened? What happened?" she squeals.

"Will you calm down? Sit down and be quiet," demands Christian, used to taking control of any situation.

Mia plops herself onto the elegant cream colored sofa, flanked by Carrick and Grace. Kate is sitting on the elaborately embroidered wing-backed chair off to the side, and Elliot perches himself on the arm of the chair next to her. Christian and I are still standing awkwardly by the doors. I can't help myself; I thrust my left hand out so that everyone gets a good look at the overly large oval diamond on my finger.

Mia screams and launches herself at us once more.

"It's absolutely gorgeous! Why didn't you tell me, Christian?"

"Because you would have ruined it," says Christian, smugly. Mia shoots him an indignant look.

"What? It's true," he says, holding up his hands in defense.

Mia sits back down with Carrick and Grace, temporarily calming herself down. Grace looks like she is beside herself with joy, like she is about to burst from the force of it all. I can't blame her, I know that her worry for her middle son is very deep and long standing.

"It's beautiful, dear. The two of you are so beautiful together. We are so very happy for you," she says, rising elegantly and giving me a kiss on each cheek before grasping her son's face and looking into his eyes.

"I never thought I'd see the day," she says softly, and I know it's only meant for Christian's ears. He murmurs something back to her and I step away, uncomfortable to be privy to such an emotional moment between mother and son.

The energy in the room is crackling with excitement, however, and it's not long before I'm surrounded by Kate and Mia, gushing over my ring and babbling about wedding plans. Carrick shakes Christian's hand and Elliot claps him on the back, their testosterone fueled way of congratulating him.

"As happy as I am for the two of you, we must remember that this is Christian's birthday party and we have a dining room full of guests to contend to. Shall we make our way over there?" suggests Grace, breaking through the excited chatter.

"Actually, Mom, Ana and I are going to beg off. I'd really just like to spend the rest of the evening with my fiancée," Christian responds, winking at me.

"But Christian, it's your party. It's your birthday for God sakes," pouts Mia. "You just can't miss the party!"

Elliot gives Christian a knowing look and I feel my cheeks flush as I realize that he knows just exactly what Christian has in mind.

"Mom, I think we should just let them have some private time," he says, emphasizing the word private. I flush a deeper shade of red.

"Alright, we get the picture. Go home, lovebirds," says Mia with a twinkle in her eye.

After extensive goodbyes and ogling of my ring, Christian and I are finally in the car with Taylor. He sits on one side of the seat and I am on the other, dying to be in his lap.

"I can't believe we got out of there so early," I muse, as I buckle my seatbelt and make myself comfortable.

"Well, my family knows that when I want something, I usually get it. They're used to it by now," says my Fifty.

"Are we going to tell them about your time limit?" I ask, tentatively.

"All in good time. I think we need to let the excitement of the evening wear off," answers Christian.

The rest of the ride is spent in comfortable silence. I suspect that Taylor already knows what happened; every time I meet his eye in the rearview mirror he gives me a knowing smile.

Taylor pulls up to the entrance of Escala and Christian and I exit the SUV. Christian grabs my hand and pulls me to the elevator. We stand side by side as we wait for the door to open. When it does, he drags me inside and, not even waiting for the doors to slide closed and pushes me against the far wall.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to get you alone, Anastasia," he murmurs against my ear.

In one swift movement he grabs my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head. I feel his knee pushing between my legs, spreading them. I let out a strangled moan as his lips trail up my neck and to my ear.

"Do you want me now, Anastasia?" he whispers, and proceeds to clamp his teeth down on my earlobe.

I'm grateful that he is holding me up because my knees give out underneath me. I gasp and my lips seek his skin. Somewhere, anywhere, I don't care. I just need contact with his skin.

"Answer me," he commands.

I meet his eye and I can see his desire, smoldering. "Yes," I squeak.

Suddenly, as quickly as it started, he releases me and steps back. I gaze at him in disbelief. It's all I can do to not stamp my foot like a petulant child. I settle for a pout.

"Well, you waited all night; you can wait a little bit later. Delayed gratification, baby," he says, business-like, although I can hear the smug undercurrent in his tone.


End file.
